


planet of love

by ivermectin



Category: Gossip Girl (TV 2007)
Genre: Anne Archibald's A+ Parenting, Anxious Dan Humphrey, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Nate is SMITTEN istg, POV Nate Archibald, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, discussion of marriage, no but seriously this is just fluff, we're finally scraping the tip of an iceberg with my nate family feelings!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27730714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivermectin/pseuds/ivermectin
Summary: In which Nate loves Dan in a way that's hard to put into words.They talk about it.They also talk about marriage.
Relationships: Nate Archibald/Dan Humphrey
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30





	planet of love

**Author's Note:**

> title from the richard siken poem of the same name.  
> if you're following my tumblr, you know that i made myself cry with this one.

“Okay, but are you sure?” Dan asks, quietly. One of his hands is on Nate’s thigh, but it’s not a sexual touch, or even a touch with any intention – they’ve gotten so comfortable around each other over the years that the lines between their bodies blur. Nate’s never had anything like this with anyone before – being able to put his feet in Dan’s lap when he’s watching the news without needing to think about it, knowing that Dan will press a hand to his lower back while walking past him with the same ease that he’d touch anything else in this house, the same unthinking normalcy of kisses goodbye and the sides of their hands brushing when they walk together in public.

Nate’s never been more sure of anything in his life. Dan, though, is looking at him, wide-eyed, full focus in that way that’s like a leading romantic hero in a movie; so considerate, so sweet, so caring and thoughtful. The fact that Dan is here, now, with him, after all these years, that their lives have merged together, to a shared flat, shared meals, waking up to each other, sometimes accidentally wearing the wrong shirt to work, all the ups and downs and everything that came with knowing another person – all of that makes it impossible for Nate to say no.

“I’m sure,” Nate says, quietly. “I want to take your name, once we’re married.”

-

The thing, the thing Nate suspects Dan knows but will not ask, is that there’s no glory in being an Archibald, anyway. It’s not like the brief time in high school where his name was tainted with scandal, the whole Yale incident involving him taking Dan’s name, but as identity theft and everything that came with it. The Archibald name’s never had the weight that the Van der Bilt name came with, and Nate’s name never formally contained the Van der Bilt name; not like it mattered. The Archibald name means nothing to Nate – maybe it should mean something, especially given things with his father.

Things with Anne are either a question mark or a zero, and Nate isn’t surprised. His mother had made her displeasure with Dan very clear, and her disappointment in Nate for falling in love with the wrong person – a man, someone with not much money to his name, someone from a family with no political lineage – feels like the final straw in an already strained relationship.

All Nate ever wanted was a family that loved warmly, sincerely, genuinely. A family that cared about him, with no rhythm or reason to it. An uncomplicated, simple, steady form of love. All his parents wanted was a perfect son – a man Nate could never be, despite how hard they’d tried to mould him into it.

The Archibald name means much less to Nate than it should. He thinks of Thanksgivings with Blair and Serena, three of them miserable and happy together in their misery, the way they’d found something they’d never had otherwise. He thinks of his entire childhood, of how he’s often felt like he had barely enough space to breathe, like he was a mannequin and his parents were sticking pin after pin into him.

Nate wants a family. And Dan? Dan gives him that. Without realising, without thinking about it, without even actively trying. Dan says, _hey, how was your day,_ Dan tries his cooking and tries to compliment him even through a grimace (Nate spares him the pain and admits that he might’ve overdone the salt), Dan massages his back when Nate’s sitting too stiffly, Dan sings Pink Floyd songs to him when he can’t sleep, Dan rolls a magazine up and swats him gently with it, says _what am I going to do with you, Nate,_ in a tone of voice that is endearing and soft. Dan loves him without even needing to think about it, because that’s just who Dan is.

-

“I just,” Dan swallows, looks at him. “I know things are complicated, with your family, and I’m not going to push. I’m okay with anything – taking your name, giving you mine, neither of us changing our names, whatever. I don’t want you to regret it.”

Nate looks at him; _really_ looks at him. Dan’s fidgeting with the engagement ring on his hand just a little (Nate had taken the fancy one, just as a fuck you to his mother, and Dan had laughed his ass off when Nate had narrated the whole showdown, and he’d even proposed a toast to Nate. Nate had laughed though, in the morning, when Dan had put the ring on his little finger because it wouldn’t fit anywhere else, and he’d frowned and said, _this is so heavy, what the fuck, dude, why is this so heavy?_ ), and it’s clear that there’s something on his mind that he isn’t saying.

“I want your name,” Nate says firmly. He shifts closer to Dan, leaning against him with the sort of proximity that’s not unlike someone about to whisper a secret into the ears of their best friend. “Dan, I’m not going to regret it. I want people to look at me, and know I married you. I want them to know that I chose you. That I love you.” He swallows. “As for my parents, and my relatives… that’s a different can of worms that we’re not going to open right now.”

“A different can of worms,” Dan repeats, amused. “Since when did you begin to talk like that?”

“Apparently I picked it up from my writer fiancé,” Nate says, giving Dan a look. He leans forward. Dan angles his head for a kiss, but Nate just kisses the tip of his nose. “We’re okay, right? Did you secretly want to be an Archibald?”

Dan huffs a laugh, his face close enough that Nate feels the exhalation of breath on his own skin. “Don’t really want a rhyming name with your mother, if we’re being honest,” he says, and Nate, despite himself, chuckles at that.

“You are the absolute worst,” Nate says fondly, and then he kisses Dan properly.

When they pull apart, Dan says, “Ah, but you’re the one who’s marrying me, remember?” and Nate smiles.

A lifetime of this is something to look forward to. He kisses Dan’s cheek, his forehead, the side of his mouth, the space right next to his ear. Dan hums.

“Are you afraid?” Dan asks, quietly. “That it’ll go sour, that we’ll end up resenting each other?”

Nate shifts a hand to Dan’s chest, splaying his fingers on his t-shirt, revelling in the feeling of his heartbeat right under his hand. “Maybe I should be afraid,” he says, softly. “But I’m not. I think we love each other too much to hurt each other.”

Dan smiles at him, a soft smile that he’s only ever given Nate. “I hope so,” he says, quiet. Fiddling with the ring, he says, “I don’t want to rebuild a life without you, and I don’t want to have to get over you.”

“You’re so gloomy,” Nate says, amused. “Writers really are the worst. I love you. We’ll be alright. It’ll be enough.”

Dan closes his eyes. “I love you too,” he says. And then, quietly, to himself more than to Nate, he says, “I know we’ll be fine. I just end up hurting the people I love, all the time.”

“So far, you’re the only person who claims to love me who hasn’t hurt me,” Nate says. “Or, you know, when you _do_ hurt me, when we fight, we always patch it up. Are you having second thoughts?” He puts his hand on Dan’s hand, fingers pressing against the diamond on the ring. “It’s fine if you are.”

“Oh no, no, no,” Dan shakes his head. “I really want to marry you. No doubt on _that_. I guess I’m just having second thoughts on your behalf. Are _you_ really sure you want to marry me? It’s a big step.”

“I like what we have, and I don’t want it to end. I want you in my future,” Nate says. “I’ve never been as sure of anything as I am of that.”

“Okay,” Dan says, and he turns to face Nate, giving him a hug.

“The way I love you,” Nate says (and it’s difficult, he’s always been terrible at talking about his feelings, mostly because he spent most of his life surrounded by people who never asked), “is never going to go away. I know we can’t really make promises like that because feelings are unpredictable. But loving you is just a part of who I am right now. I want to take your last name. I want to be able to tell people you’re my husband. And if it feels too big right now, we can wait, we can do it whenever, I don’t mind however long it takes. I don’t want to marry you just to use the ring that I stole, or to tell my family to fuck off. I want to marry you because I need somewhere to put that love, if that makes sense.”

 _I’m not going to flake,_ Nate wants to say. _I’m not going to break your heart._

“Well, with the way we’re living, we’re practically husbands anyway,” Dan points out, sniffing. (Oh god, Nate has made him cry.) “I’m sorry my brain does this sometimes.”

“You don’t need to apologise for that,” Nate says, pressing a kiss to the top of Dan’s head. “You never need to apologise for that. Okay?”

Dan nods, and kisses him. Nate thinks about how they got here, how domestic all of it is. He wonders what poems he should sneak into his vows, when he reads them. He knows Dan likes Plath, but Plath is depressing. Woolf, maybe? Oscar Wilde? He wishes he was better at storing words in his head, for just a minute. And then Dan kisses him again, and Nate thinks there’s nothing else he needs to wish for. Everything he’s ever wanted is right here.

**Author's Note:**

> [here's my gg tumblr: be warned for general chaos i suppose.](https://dancommablair.tumblr.com/)


End file.
